The Pom Pom Girl
by Frack
Summary: A very different type of short story surrounding one of the girls that cheers for Rukawa. Tells a bit about why Rukawa is the way he is and why she loves him even when he doesn't care for her.


The Pom Pom Girl  
  
Disclaimer: No, for the thousanth time, I don't own any of the characters. (Disclaimers are such a nuisance)  
  
So, here's a short story on what goes on in the mind one of the girls in Rukawa's cheerleading squad. Don't you ever wonder why in the hell the ever bother doing it when Rukawa clearly doesn't give a damn? Well, that's what this fanfic touches on. Enjoy!  
  
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"Rukawa, Rukawa! L-O-V-E! Rukawa!" I screamed, raising my pom poms high above my head. I went through the rest of my routine and quickly sat down. It was stupid, I knew. In fact, it was very, very stupid. And yet I did it. Why? Because I love him.  
But I know what my friends think. I'm no fool. I know what everyone else thinks. What Haruko thinks. To them, I'm just another cheap, shallow flake obsessed with his looks. I don't blame them. I myself have seen a fair share of those stupid, good-for-nothing girls who don't care one bit about what is beneath that handsome face. And it's just my luck that I fall in love with the most popular boy in school. Honestly though, I found nothing appealing about his icy disposition. Of course, I knew that some girls just loved that because it presented them with a challenge. Not me. I loved him before all that. I loved the Rukawa that used to smile. I miss him. All that taken away from him just because she left him. It wasn't her fault but I sometimes I can't help but hate her. Hate her for taking away the Rukawa I loved and leaving behind a dead one.  
But even then, in junior high, he was adored. But he was adored not only for his looks, he was warm then. Kind, sweet. He still had some emotions left. Now, nothing but the shell he built around himself remains. The old Rukawa is buried deep inside.. inacessible.. or maybe gone forever. He's hollow inside. And yet, knowing this, I love him. Even more so. But I can never fill that emptiness. Not like she did.  
I remember him so well in junior high. He was happy. He was in love. Everything was perfect. I was happy too then, watching him in class. I felt a pang everytime I saw him with her but as long as he was happy I accepted it. Then, I saw God turn a blind eye to him just when he needed His help the most. And so, she died. After that, it was over for him. During the first few days, he cried, he sobbed, he went into depression. Then the tears stopped. He had cried enough. It was only then that he began to build his shell. Inside he only hurt for than ever.  
Nothing mattered to him anymore. He was dead to the world. School, friends.. everything just didn't matter. Everything that is, except basketball. The game that had brought them together. The game she had supported him endlessly in. The game only she challenged him in.  
They had a dream together. They promised each other they would be the best. Then, the would go to America together. Sweet childhood dreams. Those dreams were taken from him and destroyed by the harsh reality that she was gone. Still, he never gave it up. He never forgot their promise. He excelled in basketball not for himself, but for her. Her memory kept him going. Nothing would stand in his way in fullfilling their dreams. He would never let go.  
He has no eyes for any other girl. Her image is the only thing that he sees every waking moment. But I *still* love him. Why? Ask God, He'll probably just turn away again. If only He had let her survive.  
Ever since then, I've tried to get him to notice me. I was so naive in thinking he would get over her. I tried talking to him. I tried sending notes. I tried everything. No response. I've given up now. I've gotten nothing from him. Not even a glance and yet, I continue to do this stupid cheerleading stint. I don't really know why anymore. Maybe it's my way of telling him that I'll wait for him always, no matter what, I'll support him. Maybe I just can't accept that he doesn't love me. Or maybe I'm just crazy.  
Don't get me wrong, it's not that I have any illusions about him ever having any affection for me, I know I'm nothing to look at. But at least, it's better than suffering in silence. And maybe, just maybe, someday he'll finally notice me. There I go again with that stupid hope.  
Until the day he finds someone new and can live again, if he ever does, I'll keep doing whatever it takes to be close to him, to show my support. If he's let down again, I'll be there for him, even if just to let him know that there are people who care about him. He may never know me; the pom pom girl silently cheering him on for life.  
I stand up and perform my routine again after Rukawa executes another one of his perfect shots. With my pom poms high in the air and Rukawa looking somewhere else, I realize just how much unrequited love hurts.  
"Rukawa, Rukawa! Love me! Love me! Rukawa!"  
  
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So, how did you like it? I got the idea watching Slam Dunk earlier when they showed those three girls cheering for him. Ahhh, short angsty stories, ones I do best. So anyway, please review. Please review. And again, please review.  
  
E-mail: fracky_00@hotmail.com 


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